I was yet a little child when, for the first time, I was seized upon by this longing, without at that time comprehending it.
There was a little concert in the house of my parents; the harp, piano, horn, and clarionette, were played by four distinguished artists.

In one part of the symphony the instruments united in an indescribably sweet and joyous melody, in the feeling of which my childish soul was seized upon by a strong delight, and at the same time by a deep melancholy.

It seemed to me as if I had then an understanding of heaven, and I burst into tears.

Ah! the meaning of these I have learned since then.

Many such, and many far more painful, tears of longing, have fallen upon the dark web of my life.
To what shall I compare the picture of my youthful years?
All that it, and many other such family pictures exhibit, is unclear, indefinite, in one word, blotted as it were in the formation.